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“ ‘ Jack Robinson ’ saluted the 

little Skipper and Dot.’^ 


The Little Skipper 


BY 


GrMANVILLE FENN 

Author of “Our Soldier .Boy,” “Young Robin Hood,” etc. 


WITH TWENTY ILLUSTRATIONS 




(>7203 


jfibwiu: y of Goapf«M 

l/Vtc t HfcCEifEO 

OCT 27 1900 

Ceyynght mtry 

SECOND COPY. 

OhHverad te 

0«DL8 DIVISION, 

OCT 30 li^UU 


Copyright, 1900, by HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY. 



CHAPTER I 

T he birds were singing their best one spring morning, and that 
means a great deal, for they can sing down in the New Eorest 
on a sunny morning in May, and there was quite a chorus of joy to 
welcome the Skipper and Dot as they went out through the iron gate 
at the bottom of the garden. 

The Skipper had on his last new suit of white duck, bound 
with blue, and his straw hat with the dark band bearing in gold 
letters “ H.M.S. Elash a white plaited cord was round his waist, 
and a big pocket-knife dangled at his side. With his hat stuck 
back so as to show his curly brown hair, his blue and white collar 
over his shoulders, silk sailor-knot handkerchief, and his browned 
flushed face, he looked a thorough man-of-war’s man. 

Dot was in white and blue too — a bonnie-looking little girl of 
seven, dressed as if for a yachting trip, and as full of excitement as 
her nine-year-old brother, to whom she looked up as someone very 
big and strong, who would protect her from all the perils and 
dangers to which they might be exposed. 

5 


6 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


One must stop to say that ‘‘ The Skipper/' as his father always 
called him, was Bob, otherwise Robert Trevor; and Dot, so nick- 
named for reasons plain to see, was by rights Dorothy, and they 
had that morning been excused ftom lessons, because Captain Trevor 
had sent a message from Portsmouth that he was going to run 
over to lunch. 

Mrs. Trevor had said a few words to the Skipper before they 
started about taking care, to which he replied rather importantly, 
‘‘ Of course, Ma,” and about keeping his fresh suit clean; but Mrs. 
Trevor said nothing to Dot, because, there was no need, for she 
was about the most prim, neat little creature that ever lived. 
And, now she paced along by her brother’s side, carrying two sticks 
with iron hooks at their ends, with which she walked in her pre- 
cise measured way, as if they were wands, while the Skipper 
carried the ‘‘ Flash.” 

Now the “ Flash ” was supposed to be a correct model of the 
big despatch boat commanded by Captain Trevor, but, it was very 
far from perfect, and no one knew this better than its owner. For 
Captain Trevor’s beautifully swift gun-boat had three funnels amid- 
ships, and powerful engines, while the Skipper’s model, though it 
had sails that sent it swiftly through the water when there was 
a breeze, had a great deal of make-believe about it, the funnels 
being only pieces of zinc pipe tacked to the deck, the engines, 
the works of an old clock that would not go, placed in a cigar- 
box; the boiler, which was just under the funnels, a tin canister; 
and the furnace a small lamp that had once belonged to a magic 
lantern, the whole having been fitted neatly into the model by 
Tom Jeffs, coxswain of the captain’s gig, a very big ugly sailor, who 
took his orders seriously and worked under the Skipper’s directions. 
When the lamp was lighted, as the Skipper said, nobody could tell, 
for when the water in the tin boiled, the steam came out of the 
funnels, and when the wind blew, it was almost as good as having 
real engines. 

Tom Jeffs looked very serious over the work, and shook his 
head a great deal when it was done. 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


7 





‘‘ You see,” he said, ” the steam looks right as right, but you 
don’t get no help from these engines, because it’s no use to them. 
The wessel has to carry the weight, and the screw stops her way. 

T shall have to make you a real engine 
someday;” but ” some day ” had not yet 
come, though the Skipper did not forget 
to ask Tom about it every time he came 
back from a voyage, Tom Jeffs being his 
name, though the Skipper always called 
him “ Jack Robinson,” because he said 
he seemed so much like the sailor in a 
song he used to sing. 

It was not far through the fir-trees. You could 
see the water glittering in the sunshine before you 
were half-way, but the Skipper had to stop twice. 

“ There’s a nest up that tree,” he said. “ Wood- 
pigeon’s. I could climb up there.” 

“ See how dirty it would make your clothes,” cried Dot. 

“ Well, they could be washed,” said her brother, in his lordly 
way. But he thought better of the climbing, and they went on, 
with their feet slipping in the fir-needles, till Dot dropped one of 
the sticks she carried and caught at her brother’s arm. 

“What’s that?” she whispered. 

“ Bird : w'oodpecker tapping. There it is again.” 

For a sharp sound was heard from close at hand, and directly 
after they caught sight of the little fellow that made the noise — a 
bright-looking bird with black and white markings and some scarlet 
feathers about its head. 

The next minute it flew to another tree, and Dot picked up 
the stick she had dropped, and followed her brother out of the 
shady grove into the sunshine, to stand on the sandy shore of the 
beautiful lake of clear water, from which their home took its name 
of “ The Pool House.” One side of the broad piece of water was 
sheltered by fir-trees, but the other was open, and from where they 
stood they could look right across it to the deep blue sea. 


8 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


“ Can you see Papa’s ship, Bob? ” asked Dot. 

“Of course you can’t,” cried the boy laughingly; “it’s miles 
and miles away, at Portsmouth.” 

' “Well, can’t you see Portsmouth?” asked Dot. 

“ Of course not — without Pa’s big telescope that he has on 
board.” 

The Skipper set down his ship in the sand, trimmed the sails 
a little, took out the boiler and half filled it with water, put it 
back, and took a box of matches from his pocket; Dot looking on 
with a face screwed up, from the interest she took in the business. 
Then a match was struck, while she held the straw hat to shelter 
the flame; and kneeling there, whth the model’s keel buried deep in 
the sand, the Skipper lit the lamp, but not without scorching the 
foresail a little. 

The next minute the “ Flash ” was launched, but remained 
aground in the shallow water. 

Dot knew her business, though, and handed her brother one 
of the sticks, with which he reached out and gave the vessel a good 
push, that sent it into deep water, where the light breeze filled 
out the sails, and away went the “ Flash ” toward the other side, 
w'hile the two children started off to walk round past the penstock 
where the water was so deep, and where, during the past year 
Captain Trevor had brought his son to teach him how to swim, 
giving him lessons until he had felt brave enough to run out along 
the boards, and jump, head first, right out into the water. 

When he could do that without feeling afraid, diving down 
ever so far toward the sandy bottom, and, coming up again ready 
to shake his head and follow his father. Captain Trevor told him 
he could swim. 

Bob liked it then, but he never told his father how frightened 
he used to feel at first. 

They were approaching this penstock, which was really a great 
square pipe, made of thick boards nailed to posts, and with a 
sliding door at the end, which could be pulled up to let some of 
the water run out when the pool was too full, and as they reached 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


9 


it while the little vessel was sailing away nearly as fast as they 
could walk, Bob ran out to the end of the wooden drain. 

Oh ! do mind ! ” cried Dot. 

“ Oh, yes ! I shall mind,” said the boy importantly; “ but what 
a bother it is that the steam doesn’t come. We’ll bring a bottle 
of boiling water out of the kitchen with us next time.” 

Yes,” said Dot; “ that will be the best way.” 

“ And I shall take off the hatch ” 



What’s a hatch ? ” asked Dot. 

“ Oh ! what silly things girls are ! ” said the Skipper. 

“ That they’re not,” cried Dot, “ I know. Of course : it’s that 
box lid you open in the floor.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed the Skipper boisterously. “ Box lid in 
the floor ! Why, it’s the hatch ; and it isn’t in the floor, it’s the deck; 
and I shall take it off and fill the hold with little lumps of coal.” 

Oh, yes ! I know that. It’s called the ' hold ’ because it holds 
so much.” 


10 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


The boy took no notice, but went on : — “ And I must have a big 
gun, like there is in front of Pa’s ship, and a powder-magazine.” 

“ But you mustn’t let it off,” cried Dot. 

“ But I shall let it off, and you may run away. Oh ! what 
silly things girls are ! ” and he began to return. 

Dot was pouting because she was called silly, but her pretty 
little face grew animated with trouble the next moment, for the 
Skipper was walking backwards, so as to keep his eyes fixed upon 
his sailing-boat. ” Oh! Bob, Bob, mind, or you’ll tumble in.” 

“ Hoo! hoo! hoo! ” he cried, and began to stamp about, and 
pretended to stagger as if on the point of falling, while Dot 
screamed aloud in agony and turned white. 

This was too much for the boy. He turned and ran back to 
her side, to catch her in his arms and kiss her. 

“ Oh, don’t ! don’t cry, poor little old girl,” he cried, kissing 
her wet face again, while she clung to him. 

“ You — you shouldn’t. Bob,” she sobbed. “ You did frighten 
me so.” 

“ And I was only pretending,” he said soothingly, as he 
hugged her, and led her along the sand, with his arm about her 
little waist. 

“ It — it did hurt. Bob,” she sighed, with a smile beginning to 
struggle through the clouded face. 

“ There, I won’t do so any more,” he whispered lovingly, 
and ” 

“ Ship ahoy! ” came in a hearty shout, and with the steam just 
beginning to appear fairly from out of the funnel, the trouble was 
forgotten. 

“ Here’s Pa come ! ” cried the boy, and he set off to run. 

“ Oh, Bob ! please,” came after him plaintively, and the Skipper 
turned and hurried back, to catch his sister’s hand. 

‘‘ Now then, fast as you can ! ” he panted. “ I’ll help you. Run ! ” 



CHAPTER II 

B efore the two children had run far .along the side of the 
lake, two figures appeared, coming along a path. The first, 
that of a handsome-looking officer in undress uniform; the other, 
that of a grim-looking sailor, carrying a basket in one hand and a 
couple of large brown-paper packages, tied together, in the other. 
But, he did not look quite grim, for somewhere about the middle 
of a great cocoanut-coloured beard his big white teeth could be seen, 
showing that he was smiling : and higher up still, just above the top 
of the beard, which was divided by a brown nose, two squeezed- 
up eyes were twinkling in the sunshine. 

“ Skipper, ahoy! ” cried the officer, as the boy loosed his hold 
of his sister’s hand, made a running jump, and was caught, hugged, 
and set down again. “ Ah ! my precious little woman,” came next, 
and Dot was lifted from the ground, and her arms went round the 
Captain’s neck, as she nestled to him and kissed him again and 
again. 

Why, hullo! little woman,” he cried. “Wet face — tears — 
crying — had a tumble ? ” 

“ Oh, no, Papa dear; it was — it was only ” 


II 


12 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


She stopped short, and colored. 

‘‘ Only what, my darling? ” 

“ It was I,” said the Skipper, flushing, but speaking out very 
bravely. “ I frightened her — pretended I was going to tumble into 
the water.” 

“ But he didn’t think it would frighten me. Pa dear,” cried Dot 
earnestly, ‘‘ or he wouldn’t have done it. Would you. Bob? ” 

“ Yes,” said the boy stolidly. ” Did it on purpose to frighten 
you.” 

“How dare you!” cried Captain Trevor sternly. “This is 
pretty discipline. Have I not always told you that a big boy ought 
to be kind to his sister ? ” 

“ Yes, Pa.” 

“ And because he’s strong and ugly, because he’s going some 
day to be a man, he ought to watch over and protect her.” 

“ Yes, Pa,” said the boy, his lip quivering, as he stared past his 
father at the big sailor, who was scowling and shaking his head at 
him fiercely. 

“ And now I come home for a few hours, expecting to see you 
all as happy as can be, I find my boy — no, I can’t say my boy if you 
behave like this — has been as naughty as ever he could be.” 

“ Oh, no. Pa,” cried the Skipper, that is to say, nearly cried 
the Skipper, for his voice sounded a little shaky; “ that’s not half so 
naughty as I could be if I tried.” 

The Skipper stared in wonder, for as he said this, the big sailor 
suddenly uttered a peculiar sound, swung himself round with the 
bag and parcels flying out, and stood with his back to him, upon one 
leg, lifting the other up and down, with the toe just touching the 
ground from time to time. 

As for Captain Trevor, the Skipper saw that he had squeezed 
his lips together, wrinkled up his face, and frowned heavily. 

“ Oh ! please. Pa dear,” whispered Dot, tightening her arms 
round his neck, “ don’t be cross with poor Bob. He was very sorry. 
Weren’t you, Bob? ” 

“ Yes, I was sorry,” said the boy repentantly, but without ta- 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


13 


king his eyes off the big sailor, whose leg was still going up and down 
like one of the engines on board his father’s ship. 

But I must be angry with him, my darling,” said the Captain 
gravely. “ Bob knows better; if he does such things now and does 
not check them, he will grow into a bully, and disgrace himself.” 

This was said at the Skipper, whose face was very red, from 
his efforts to keep back his tears. 

“ Oh ! Pa dear ! ” cried Dot. 

“ Hush! my darling,” said the Captain. “ Here, Jeffs! ” 

Ay, ay, sir ! ” roared the big sailor, as if he were speaking in 
a storm; and he swung round again, with his packages flying out, 
like the governor balls of the ship’s engine. 

“ Did you bring that breech-loading cannon? ” 

“ Ay, ay, sir ! ” said the sailor, holding up the hand which held 
the parcels. 

‘‘ And the brass anchor? ” 

“ Ay, ay, sir! ” and the hand was lifted again. 

“ And I told you to buy a coil of well-laid cable.” 

Ay, ay, sir ! — best fishing-line. In my ’at, sir.” 

“ Right then; you can take them back : they will not be wanted.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir! ” cried the man, but not so loudly and sharply; 
and he gazed now at the Skipper, who looked back at him in his mis- 
ery ; and strive how he would, he could not keep back one little tear, 
which squeezed itself out of his left eye and tickled his cheek very 
much, as it slowly ran down. 

Poor little Dot was not so strong, but still she was brave, for 
she made no sound, while she hid her face and cried bitterly. 

Meanwhile, the big sailor had faced about and was walking 
back, picking up his feet from the sand as if it were hot and burned 
him, while the Captain turned his back on his son and began to 
move off toward the fir-wood. 

This gave the Skipper his opportunity too; he swung round to 
hide the tears that had beaten him, and would come trickling down. 

For the boy in his misery and despair felt that he could not 
— thanks to his training — run to his father and beg for forgiveness, 


14 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


SO that he might have the presents the Captain had brought for 
him. It would be so mean, he thought. But that cannon, and the 
anchor, and the ship's cable. It seemed more than he could bear. 

The sand was very soft, and the Skipper would not have 
known that his father had come back, if Dot had not uttered a 
tiny sob, when the boy started round, to face his father’s eyes. 

‘‘Not sulky, are you. Bob?” 

The boy shook his head. He dared not try to speak. 

“ It was not right of my boy, w^as it? ” 

“ No, father,” wdiispered the boy. 

“ Shake hands, then.” 

The Skipper caught the firm brown hand in both of his, and 
clung to it tightly, and Dot began kissing her father with all her 
might. As soon as he could extricate himself, the Captain smiled 
and wiped his w^et face, for Dot had been leaving little dewy tears all 
over it. Then he hailed the big sailor, who w^as out of sight among 
the trees. 

“ Ay, ay, sir ! ” came in a cheery roar, and the next minute 
he came into sight, trotting along at double quick march, and 
making the dry sand fly like smoke. 

” Those ship’s stores whll be w’anted to-day,” said the Captain 
sharply; and he strode off into the fir-w’ood, wdth Dot in his arms, 
leaving his son to follows 

The Skipper turned his back again, so that the sailor should 
not see the trouble in his face, but he looked round in wonder, 
for there was a strange scuffling noise, the low^ wdiistling of the old 
tune “ Tack Robinson,” and there was the big sailor, with his arms 
swung across his breast, and the parcels dangling on the wTong 
side, going through the steps of the sailor’s hornpipe, as if he were 
made of indiarubber; and kicking up the dust more than ever. 

“ Hooroar ! Master Bob,” he w^hispered huskily. “ It’s all right 
agen. Come on and let’s get the ship, and I’ll help you to hyste 
the tackle aboard as soon as wt get lip to the house.” 



•* ' 


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♦..V '41 ««■ 






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“ There was the 


big sailor going through the 
steps of the sailor’s hornpipe. 


V 




CHAPTER III 



T he Skipper felt very uncomfortable 
when he reached home carrying 
his boat, for almost the first person 
he saw was his mother, who met 
him in the hall, to catch him 
in her arms, without taking 
any notice of the big sailor, 
who saluted her, by pulling 
at a tuft of shaggy hair on 
his forehead, bending forw ard 
and kicking out one leg be- 
hind, before putting down 
his load. 

“You can go in the kit- 
chen, Jeffs,” said the Captain, 
appearing at the drawing-room door, “ and have your meal there.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir ! ” 

“ There will be a portmanteau to take back with you, but, 
you can stay till the evening if you like. The boat will be at the 
stairs at seven.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir ! ” said the sailor, saluting, and backing out, trying 
bard to catch the Skipper’s eye; but the boy was watching his 
mother, for he saw that she had been crying. 

“Father’s been telling her,” he said to himself; and he took 
the first opportunity of slipping away. But he had to come back 
when the big bell rang for early dinner, feeling very guilty, and 
longing to tell his mother that he was alwavs going to be very 
brave and manly in the future, and never do anything wrong again. 


i6 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


17 


But, he had no chance, for soon after dinner, Mrs. Trevor, who 
looked very unhappy, told him to take Dot and go and play. 

“ Ah ! yes, little ones,” said the Captain gravely. “ You can 
go, both of you, but don’t go far away. I shall want to see all I 
can of you to-day.” 

Bob felt more uncomfortable still, as he reached the door, but, 
before he was outside, the Captain called him back. “ I suppose you 
would like to have Jeffs to help you this afternoon? ” he said quietly. 

“ Ye — es, please. Papa,” said the boy. 

“ Very well. Fetch me those two parcels he brought.” 

Bob hurried out into the hall, closely followed by Dot, who 
said sagely, You made Pa and Ma both cry by teasing me.” 

But the thought of the parcels chased away the trouble in the 
boy’s heart, as he caught them up and ran with them into the 
drawing-room, followed by Dot, whose little face grew serious, when 
the parcels were opened, and found to contain little square boxes. 

“ Open them,” said the Captain, while Mrs. Trevor stood beside 
them, biting her lower lip. 

The boy’s cheeks flushed, and his heart beat, for there, bright 
and new, were the things he had been longing for: a large metal 
model, carriage and all, of a breech-loading cannon, and a patent 
brass anchor. 

“ Oh, Pa! ” he cried, half wild with joy. 

“ For someone who is always going to act like a man,” said 
the Captain seriously, “ and — ah ! my little one, what a sad face I ” 
he cried. “ Did she think she was forgotten ? Why ! where’s that 
basket, Jeffs brought? ” 

Dot needed no telling: she darted out of the room, to come 
back directly with her eyes sparkling, and before the basket was 
open, she was upon her father’s knee, laughing, and kissing his sad 
face, her mother directly after coming in for her share of caresses. 
For the basket was found to contain a long parcel and a box, the 
trembling little fingers having plenty of difficulty in tearing off the 
paper, to display a new doll, of wonderful construction, and an 
attractive-looking box of sweets. 


i8 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


“ You spoil them, my dear; said Mrs. Trevor sadly. 

The Captain sighed as he said : — “ I do not have much chance, 
love. There, it makes them happy. I don’t spoil you; do I, Bob? ” 

'“No Pa,” replied the boy quickly; and the scene by the lake 
came back, to make him feel guilty again. 

“There, run along,” cried the Captain; and the next minute 
all was forgotten, for there was so much to do. 

“ Jack Robinson ” was waiting, ready to grin with pleasure as 
Dot rushed at him, to show him the new doll, which he was allowed 
to take in his hands, the child trembling and flushing a little, 
as she saw directly after, that there were tarry marks upon his 
palms; but, the dark hrozvn did not come otf. 

Then “ Jack Robinson ” was turning over the gun and the 
anchor after which, with a wink and grin, he drew a little coil of 
new fishing-line from out of his breast. “ We shall be ship-shape 
now,” he cried. 

“Yes; come into our room,” cried the Skipper. “You may 
come and see too. Dot; ” and the next minute, they were in the 
play and school-room. There were plenty of expensive toys, but they 
were as nothing now beside the “ Flash,” wFich w^as placed on 
the table before Jack Robinson, who took his seat betw'een the 
children, though the Skipper soon climbed from his chair, on to the 
table, where he sat, cross-legged, like a sailor making a sail, while 
Jack opened his big knife, to fit in the gun in its proper place, forward. 

Just then the Skipper caught sight of Dot bending the new 
doll’s legs to seat her on the table, and help see the proceedings. 

In an instant the boy caught up the knife and held it out. 

“ Here, ' Jack ’ ” he cried, with mock ferocity, “ get hold of that 
doll, and I’ll cut off her head.” 

“ Oh ! ” shrieked Dot, but her cry was smothered by the noise 
made b}^ the sailor’s fist, as he banged it down on the table. 

“ Avast ! ” he roared fiercely. “ You put dowm that there jack- 
knife. Didn’t the Cap’n say as you wasn’t to tease your sister?” 

“ Oh, yes! ” cried the boy; “ I forgot. It w^as onlv my fun.” 

“ Your fun ! ” cried the sailor, looking his ugliest. “ Don’t you 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


19 


cry, my pretty. If ever he teases you I’ll mut’n}", and never help 
him to rig a boat agen. And look here : if he don’t say he's sorry, 
I won't do this here.” 

“ But I am sorry,” cried the boy: “ Oh, I say, Dot, don’t be 
a little silly. I tell you it was only my fun.” 

Your fun ! growled “ Jack,” passing his left arm round Dot, 
and looking very savage, as he held up a great rough finger. at the 
offender, and shook his head at him warningly. “ Now look-ye 



here. There was some boys once as stood round chuckin' stones 
at some frogs in a pond, and — — ” 

‘‘ Yes, I know,” cried the Skipper hastily, “ and the frogs said — ” 
Avast!” roared the sailor — ‘Diay, I don’t mean they said 
* Avast,’ that’s what I says. Don’t you int’rnp’ older folks, as is 
talking to you for your good. ^Tebbe yon do know what the 
frogs said, but it won’t hurt vou to hear it agen. The frogs said — 
I mean croaked out—* Avast ! ' ” 


20 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


“ Why ! you told us the frogs didn’t say ‘ Avast,’ ” cried the boy. 

“Did I? Ay! so I did. -It wasn’t ‘Avast’; it were ‘Belay 
there! Don’t do that,’ they says. And tlien the boys said, just as 
you did, ‘ It was only my fun.’ And then the frogs says; ‘ Ha! ’ 
they, says, ‘ What’s fun to you means stones come aboard and 
sinkin’ us, and sendin’ on us to the bottom.’ ” 

“ That they didn’t ! ” cried the boy archly. 

“ Well, I don’t say it was them werry words, but what they 
says meant it, and here you will come bringing your fun, as you 
calls 'it, on deck, and hurtin’ your pretty little sister; and you calls 
yourself a man.” 

“ I don’t,” said the boy. “ I said I’d try and act like a man/' 

“Then why don’t yer hack like a man?” cried the sailor. 
“ You’re a-gettin’ on : some o’ these days you’ll be skipper of a 
big craft o’ your own, and you promised I should be your bo’sun; 
and here you goes and hacks like that. Why! big as I am, I 
wouldn’t go an’ hurt a little thing like this, for a golden king’s 
crown. — Would I, my pretty?” 

“ No ‘ Jack ’ ” said Dot seriously; “ I’m sure you wouldn’t. And 
it’s very cruel of Bob.” 

“That’s right, my dear; so it is; and I just tell him if he 
don’t stick to his word like a young gent should, him and me 
ain’t going to be messmates no more.” 

The Skipper’s conscience was very busy again, but, he wouldn’t 
show his trouble, and, he tried to turn it off by saying rapidly — 

“ Won’t do so any more — won’t do so any more,” three times. 

“ Don’t sound to me as if you was sorry,” growled the man. 
“ I heered what your father says to you, and he knows, and he’s 
the finest gentleman in all Her Majesty’s Service. On’y wish I’d 
got such a father.” 

“What nonsense, ‘Jack’!” cried the Skipper; “why! you’re 
too big, isn’t he. Dot? ” 

“ Yes,” said the girl, “ he does seem to be very big to have a 
father.” 

“Well, I ain’t a wery little un, am I, my pretty?” said the 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


21 


sailor, chuckling. But, you alius mind, and do what your father 
tells you, Master Bob.” 

Oh ! do- go on with the ship,” cried the Skipper impatiently. 

But, I say, did you always do what your father told you 
^ Jack ’ ? ” 

“ Nay, that I didn’t, and wery sorry I 
am, ’ said the big fellow, shaking his head. 

“ That’s the wust on it; we gets to be sorry 
for things when it's too late; and I’m wery 
much afeard. Master Bob, as this here gun’ll 
make the ‘ Flash ’ a bit crank.” 

“ What’s crank ? ” asked the boy. 

“ What you shore-going folks calls top- 
heavy; and that either means cutting down 
her rigging ’ 

“ No, I won’t have the rigging touched,” cried Bob. 

‘‘ Well, it would be a mortal shame, seeing how she sails, but 
you wouldn’t like her to capsize.” 

“ No; of course not.” 

“ Then, I tell you what : 3^011 must put some little bags o’ shot 
in her hold, to act as ballast, and then she’ll be all right.” 

Then, apparently satisfied with the boy’s promise of amend- 
ment, ‘‘ Jack Robinson,” otherwise Tom Jeffs, worked away at the 
model, till the gun was fixed amidships, and the anchor swung to 
her bows, the cable having been knotted on, and the neatly coiled 
rings placed inside a little hatch in front. 

All this being finished, as a man-of-war’s man does such things, 
the Skipper sprang down from the table. “ Now, ‘ Jack,’ come 
along! ” he cried, let’s see how she’ll sail.” But, just then tea-time 
was announced, and in spite of a loud ''Oh!'' full of disappoint- 
ment, the big sailor had to go into the kitchen and have his tea, the 
children’s evening meal being ready too; and directly after they 
were summoned to sav eood-bye to the coxswain, who had to go 
back. The Captain and Mrs. Trevor were in the hall when the former 
nodded shortly to his man, and went into the drawing-room, wdiile 



22 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


the Skipper saw his mother slip something, that looked like a 
yellow sixpence, into tlie man's big hand. 

“ Good-bye, and thank 3^011, Jeffs,” she said hurriedly, and her 
voice sounded broken. “ I pra}^ that you may have a good vo3^age.” 

'' Then we shall, ma'am, and bless and thank you, but there 
ain't no need for this.” 

“ For all }'OU have done for my children,” said Bob's mother. 

‘‘ For that, ma'am ! Why, it's been holida^'^s and holidays to 
come up here, and bless 'em too. — May I, ma'am? ” 

“ Yes, please do,” cried Mrs. Trevor, in a choking voice, and the 
man caught up Dot. 

“ Good-bye, my little dymond,” he cried huskily. 

‘‘ Good-b3^e, ‘ Jack.' Come and see us again soon,” cried Dot, 
responding to his kiss, and tickling her little pinky nose with 
Jack’s ” whiskers, for it was like kissing some loose cocoa-nut fibre. 

“ Good-bye, Master Robert,” the man continued ; and the Skipper 
shook hands with him like a man. 

“ Good-lwe, ‘ Jack ’ : when are you coming again? ” 

The sailor looked at him with a peculiar expression of coun- 
tenance, and was silent for a few moments. 

“ Next time,” he said huskil3^ and, making a rough bow, he 
caught up a small portmanteau standing ready, and hurried out of 
the house, while the Skipper’s mother bit her lower lip, hard, as 
she turned away, to hide her swimming eyes. 

“ Ydiat’s mamma crying for? ” asked Dot. 

“ She wasn't crying,” said the Skipper gloomil}^, but, he felt 
she was ready to do so, and he turned to go into the drawing-room, 
after opening the door a little way, feeling all the while that his 
mother’s looks were all on account of his behavior. 

Just then the boy stood perfect!}" still, for there was a burst of ' 
pitiable sobs, and he heard his mother sa}", in answer to some 
whispered words of the Captain’s — T do try, dear, but it seems so 
hard, so very hard.” 



T he next morning at breakfast the Skipper noticed that 
his mother looked as if she had been crying again, and 
the sight came like a chill over the boy. 

“ But she isn’t very angry with me,” he thought the next 
moment, for she kissed him eagerly. “ It’s only because she’s sorry. 
I’m never going to make her unhappy again, though,” he thought, 
as he went on to shake hands with his father. 

“ Morning, Bob,” said the Captain, pressing his boy’s hand 
hard, and then turning to Dot, whom he jumped up so as to kiss 
her lovingly. 


CHAPTER IV 


23 


24 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


That was a very dull breakfast, for . the sad looks of Captain 
and Mrs. Trevor had their effect upon the young folks, who were 
glad to escape, at last, to their own room, where they stayed till 
about ten o’clock, when Mrs. Trevor came suddenly in, looking 
very pale. 

“ Come, my darlings,” she said; “ your poor father wants to see 
you.” 

She caught Dot’s hand in hers and led her through the door, 
leaving poor Bob half stunned; for his mother seemed so strange 
to him, and he could not get the idea out of his head that this 
was all something to do with yesterday’s trouble; but he could 
not find the words to ask, and so followed into the drawing-room, 
where Captain Trevor was looking very hard and stern, as he held 
out his hands to Dot, catching her in his arms and kissing her in 
a way that startled her. 

Then taking out his watch, he glanced at it and thrust it back 
in his pocket, drawing himself up directly after, and looking harder 
than ever. His voice sounded strange too, as, without even glancing 
at his son, he said sharply : 

” I have driven it too long. There is not a minute if I am to 
catch this train. Duty, my own. For pity’s sake be firm, or you 
will unman me.” 

Bob saw his mother draw herself up, press her lips together, 
and knit her brows, as she nodded her head at her husband and 
took Dot, who looked frightened, from his arms. 

“That’s right,” said the Captain sharply; “that’s like my 
wife; ” and placing his hands upon her arms, he bent down and 
kissed her on the forehead, turned and caught the boy’s hand, 
wrung it hard, and strode out of the room. 

The next moment they heard his step in the hall, and directly 
after on the gravel outside. In another moment he was passing 
the window, to turn and wave his hand, when, as Bob felt heart- 
sick with the feeling of misery which attacked him, Dot, who 
felt that something dreadful was the matter, hid her face on her 
mother’s shoulder and began to cry bitterly. 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


35 


This had its good effect upon Mrs. Trevor, who began to 
kiss and soothe her. 

“ Hush, hush, my darling,” she cried. “ You must not cry, but 
help poor Mamma to try and bear it. You must help me to pray 
to God to watch over him and bring him back safely to us from 
that dreadful place.” 

These words unlocked the Skipper’s silent tongue. 

“What dreadful place?” he cried excitedly. 

“Africa, my boy— The Gold Coast— the White Man’s ” 

Mrs. Trevor shuddered, and checked herself. 

“ Gone! ” cried the boy again, with the feeling strong upon him 
that his father was still angry and had not forgiven him. And he 
had gone without a word. He had kissed Dot and her mother, 
but only just pressed his hand. 

“ Gone ! ” he said again. 

“ Yes, my boy,” sobbed Mrs. Trevor. “ But he is a sailor, and 
it is his duty to serve his country and his Queen. You, my boy, 
must ” 

The poor Skipper heard no more. With a bitter cry he rushed 
out of the room, through the hall, and then along the path toward 
the swing gate, hatless and desperate. 

“ I must tell father how sorry I am,” he panted — “ he must 
bid me good-bye before he goes — I must — I must — tell him.” 

And then, setting his teeth hard, he ran at full speed to over- 
take the Captain; for he was too young to understand the work- 
ings of his gallant father’s heart, and the agony he felt at parting, 
suddenly ordered, as he had been, to be ready to start that night 
on a voyage to a deadly part of the African coast — a place from 
which many who were sent never returned. 



CHAPTER V 



HE Skipper ran as he had never run before. Through the gate 


1 and along the sandy road, but, before he had gone a hundred 
yards three rough-looking boys, \vho were out birds’-nesting, saw 
him coming, and, moved by the same mischievous feeling, formed 
across the road, yelling and hooting at him as he came on. 

At another time the Skipper would have halted, and most 
likely have turned back; but he was desperate now% and if there 
had been a dozen boys there he would have done the same. 

Clenching his fists tightly and setting his teeth harder, he 
charged at the biggest of the three, who was in the middle of the 
road, his eyes flashing as he ran. “Yah, hoo! Stop, thief! stop, 
thief! ” yelled the boy, throwing out his arms. “ Stop! ” 

IV hop — smack — thud ! 

The boy was rolling over in the dust. The Skipper had jumped 
over him, and heard him howling as he ran on; but Bob did not 
turn his head; he felt sure that he should see his father, as soon 
as he reached the corner where the High Road ran by in a per- 
fectly straight line through the trees for a couple of miles, down 
hill and up hill, right past the station at the level crossing. 

But the poor Skipper was wrong; he reached the corner and 
stopped dead, panting hard, for there, a good half-mile aw^ay, was the 
station fly, with a pair of horses going at a gallop so as to catch the 
train. He stood breathing hard, feeling half stunned, and at last, 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


2 ^ 


with head and arms hanging, he turned off the road on to the 
grassy border, following the path by which his father and Jeffs 
came the previous day, till he reached the lake with its sandy 
edge. Then he turned in among the fir-trees in a dull half-stupid 
v/ay, but had not gone many yards, before, utterly overcome by 
the misery he felt, he threw himself down, hid his face in his 
hands, and lay there sobbing as if his heart would break. 

The poor Skipper did not know’ how time went : he could 
think of nothing but that his father had gone away still angry with 
him, and without bidding him good-bye; and he lay there, half 
stunned by his misery, till a gruff voice exclaimed : ‘‘ Hullo ! Master 
Bob! why here you are, then. Bell’s rung ever so long ago; 
they’re looking for you everywhere, and your Ma’s in a orful way.” 

The Skipper started to his feet, but with his head averted 
from the gardener, who was returning, after going home to his 
dinner; and setting off running, he made for the house, where 
he hurried upstairs, into his room, to bathe his swollen eyes. 

Before he had finished, his mother was at the bed-room 
door, looking wild and anxious, but, the sight of the boy’s swollen 
eyes convinced her, that he had only hidden himself away in 
the wood so that no one should see his tears; she said nothing, 
but kissed him tenderly, and waited till he was ready to go down. 

All that afternoon the boy spent alone, thinking. When 
the bell rang for tea he was thinking still, but Mrs. Trevor 
thought it better not to interfere with him, and she only sighed, 
when she saw him take his hat and go down the garden again, 
toward the belt of fir-trees by the big pool. “ He’ll be better 
to-morrow, poor boy,” she said to herself. “ How bravely he tries 
to master it all — how proud his father would be, if he knew.” 

Poor Mrs. Trevor did not know the fresh grief in store for 
her, and the anxiety she would have to suffer, for the Skipper 
had made his plans at last; and that night was spent in horror and 
despair. 


CHAPTER VI 

T he Skipper looked quite two years 
older in the face, as he trudged along 
through the wood as fast as he could 
walk, thinking of what he was about 
to do, for it never once came into his 
young mind, that he was going to add 
to the pain his mother was already 
feeling; and with his mind quite made 
up, he went straight to the station, to 
find the boy clerk behind, waggling 
the handle of the telegraph. 

‘‘ When’s the next train ? ” asked 
the Skipper. 

‘‘Where to?” 

“ Portsmouth,” said the Skipper. 

“Town or Harbor?” 

“ Where my father’s ship is,” said the Skipper. 

“ That’s Harbor,” said the boy clerk, grinning in recognition. 
“Going after the Captain?” 

The Skipper nodded 
“What class?” 

“ First,” said the Skipper, at a venture. 

“ Two and four, single,” said the clerk, picking out a ticket from 
the rack, and stamping it, by sticking it in a noisy nick, before the 
would-be traveler could speak. When he could, it was with a 
bright shilling, given him at his father’s last visit, a threepenny- 
piece, and a twopence halfpenny, in his hand. 

28 



THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


29 


“ Two and four,” said the clerk again. 

I — I haven’t enough.” 

'' Well, we don’t give credit here,” said the clerk, laughing. 

If you please, I’ll pay the rest when I come back.” 

Hum! ” said the clerk, “ when are you coming back? ” 

‘‘ To-night.” 

'' Then you want a return ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the Skipper, nodding. 

“ Well, I oughtn’t to give you credit. What are you going to 
Portsmouth for ? ” 

The boy choked for a moment, and felt annoyed at the question. 

“To say good-bye to my Papa before he goes. I must go 
directly, or he will be gone.” 

“ But a’ return’s ever so much more, squire.” 

‘H’ll be sure and pay you when I come back.” 

The clerk hesitated, but he knew^ that the young traveler lived 
at The Pool House, and that his father had gone by the mid-day 
train, so he said good-humoredly: “ Look here; you’d better have 
a third return ; that’s tw^o shillings, and you can pay me one, 'and 
give me the other to-morrow.” 

“Yes, please,” cried the Skipper eagerly. 

“ Here she comes too,” said the clerk, and he took the first- 
class ticket, juggled another in the stamping-machine, and dabbed 
it down through the pigeon-hole. 

“ Oh, thank you,” cried the Skipper, snatching it up, and rushing 
towards the door. 

“ Hi ! You haven’t paid,” shouted the clerk, and the boy ran 
back, wdth his face scarlet, to place his bright shilling on the little 
bracket. 

“ That’s your sort,” said the clerk; “ don’t you forget you owe 
me another.” But the Skipper did not hear him, being half-way to 
the door, and then, ran panting out on to the platform, just as the 
train glided in. 

The porter knew him, clipped his ticket, and he, being the 
only passenger from the little station, opened the carriage door, gave 


30 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


it a third-class bang, which, as everyone knows, is three times as 
lond as a first-class bang, and the next minute with Bob’s 
heart beating hard like the throbbing of the engine, the eventful 
journey began. 

There was only one other passenger in his compartment, and 
he was asleep, but his presence w-as quite comforting to Bob, for he 
was a sailor, who had placed his canvas bag in a corner for a pillowy, 
and was snoring loudly, with his mouth open, and his hat had fallen 
on the floor. 

The Skipper sat watching the man for a few' minutes, as the 
train rattled along, and then, got softly dowui, picked up the hat, 
and placed it on the seat in front of the man, noticing as he did 
so, that it bore on the ribbon “ H. M. S. Taurus.” 

This was comforting, too, and the boy felt as if he had met a 
friend ; but the man slept on till the train slackened speed, and 
then pulled up wdth a jerk, wiiile Bob w'as looking out, to read the 
name of the station. 

Then he started round, for from the far corner the sailor 
shouted fiercely: ‘'This Portsmouth?” 

“ No, sir, it’s Pately,” said the Skipper, in alarm. 

" Ho! ” grunted the man. ‘‘ Mustn’t miss my station,” and he 
w^as settling himself down to sleep again, wdien, as he glanced at 
his fellow'-traveler, he caught sight of the Skipper’s rig-out. 

" What cheer, messm’t ! ” he cried boisterously. " Whither 
bound ? ” and his features expanded into a broad grin. 

" Portsmouth,” said the Skipper. 

" Right you are, messm’t. So’m I. What ship? ‘ Flash,’ eh! 
My stars! You aren’t a middy, are yer? ” 

" Not yet,” said the boy; " but Pm going to be some day.” 

" Right you are,” cried the man again; and Bob felt as if he 
should like to tell the man he ought to say, " You are right; ” but 
the man went on, still looking him over from head to foot : " Then 
you aren’t going to jyne the ' Flash ’? she’s a-lying out yonder.” 

" No,” said the Skipper, " I am only going to see my father. 
He’s the Captain.” 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


31 

To Bob s astonishment the man jumped up, pulled his forelock, 
and kicked out his right leg behind. 

Why didn t you say you was a orficer afore ? he cried. 



‘‘ Going to see your father, eh! Well, now, that is rum. IVe just 
been to see my old mother at Ringwood, and going back to my 
ship — — Old Bull” 

‘‘ The what? ” said Bob, who felt puzzled. 


32 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


'' Old Bull” said the man, picking up his cap and pointing 
to the letters on the ribbon ; '' T ore — hus means ‘ old bull ’ you 
know.” 

“ Oh, yes; I know now.” 

“ That’s your sort. How yer going to get aboard — boat waitin’ 
for you ? ” 

“ Oh, no! ” said Bob, looking at the man wistfully. 

“ Then you’ll have to take one, and they’re reg’lar sharks.” 

‘‘Are they, sir?” 

“Ay! that they are, my lad; they’ll want a shilling to row 
you aboard, or perhaps as you’re a orficer, like, they’ll want two 
shillings.” 

Bob’s heart sank. 

“ But thruppence is plenty, speshly as you ain’t got no kit.” 

Bob’s spirits rose again, and the man began to whistle a very 
doleful tune, but left ol¥ in a minute or two. 

“ Like holidays ? ” he said suddenly. 

“Yes, very much ” 

“ T‘don’t,” said the sailor, “ goes home to see my old mother, 
and she don’t want me to come away again. Says she shan’t never 
see me no more if I go, but she alius does. This makes ten times 
in ten years I’ve been, since I went to sea. Awful old.” 

“ Is she? ” said the Skipper. 

“ Awful. Eighty-seven, and looks ninety. You’d like her.” 

“ Yes, I suppose so,” said the Skipper. 

“ Nicest old woman as ever was : — I say,” he added, as if struck 
by a sudden thought, “how much money have you got?” 

The Skipper told him, and the man laughed. 

“ More’n I have. Spent some, give the old ooman the rest. 
On’y got thruppence left. Look here: you and me’s shipmets, — 
travelers. S’pose we jyne?” 

“A ship?” faltered Bob. 

“ No ! jyne in a boat. I’ll work it : I’m bigger than you. We’ll 
go down to the stairs together. ‘Boat ahoy! says I, and half a 
dozen’ll want to take us, but I picks one and he’ll want ever so 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


33 


much ; but I says : ‘ Thruppence a-piece to our ships/ and tells him 
we won't pay no more. He’ll be glad enough to go. Only a little 
way. Then 1 sets you aboard the ‘ Flash ’ ; you gives me your 
thruppence, and I makes him take me to the Old Bull, and pays 
him then.” 

“ Yes, that will be capital,” said the Skipper. 

“ Right you are. Sailors alius helps a messmet. I helps you 
and you helps me, eh ! ” 

“ Yes, of course,” said Bob. 

“ Y'ell, I’m going to have a caulk till we gets to Portsmoufh. 
Will you take the watch ? ” 

“ The watch ? ” 

“ Ay! you won’t go to sleep? ” 

‘'Oh, no!” said the Skipper; “I couldn’t now.” 

“ I could,” said the man, grinning; “ look-ye here.” 

He snuggled up in his corner, laid his head on his canvas bag, 
shut his eyes, and the next minute he snored his hat off, ready for 
his fellow-traveler to pick it up again, lay it on the seat, and then 
look out of the window as the train dawdled along, stopping at 
every station, a long time at a junction. 

It was rapidly growing dark when they reached the harbor, 
the sailor sound asleep; and the Skipper had to shake him and 
shout in his ear: — 

“ Portsmouth I 


CHAPTER VII 


A y, ay,” growled the sleepy sailor. “ What’s matter?” 

” We’re at Portsmouth.” 

“ Right you are, mate,” cried the man, jumping up and fum- 
bling in his pocket for his pass, just as the ticket collector came up. 
Then, on they went a short distance; the train stopped again, and 
shivering with excitement, and fear, lest the ‘‘ Flash ” should have 
sailed, the Skipper alighted with his new friend, who shouldered his 
kit, and they walked off rapidly to the stairs. 

Bob’s eyes were wandering outward, in search of his father’s 
vessel, which he had visited three times, but it was not lying where 
he saw it last, and his heart was sinking again, when his companion 
said sharply : 

“There she lies: blue Peter up just see it. Look at ’em 

hysting her lights. This way.” 

The sailor was wonderfully quick and business-like, now, and 
all fell out, as he had said, about the boatmen, one of them 
grumbling; but he did not refuse the job, and in ten minutes they 
were getting very close to the soft gray side of the “ Flash,” with 
the boy trembling still, for fear he should see it begin to glide away, 
before he could reach the side. 

But there she still swung to the buoy as they came up, and 
the Marine sentry at the gangway challenged. 

“ Good-bye,” said the Skipper, handing his threepenny piece to 
his traveling companion, “ and I wish you a pleasant voyage.” 

The boat floated away into the darkness, and the Skipper ran 


34 



Ill ten minutes they were 

getting close to the ‘ Flash.’ 


36 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


up the steps, to where the sentry stood grinning, and puzzled as to 
whether he should call the officer of the watch to the familiar 
young visitor. 

“ Where’s iny father? ” said the boy; “ is he in his cabin? 

Shore, at the Port Admiral’s, sir,” said the sentry. 

Here was a disappointment; but it was something to have got 
on board in time, and the Skipper began to walk aft, while the 
Marine, taking it as a matter of course that the Captain’s son should 
have come on board, resumed his watch. 

There were not many men on deck, and they were all too busy 
to pay any heed to the boy, as he looked about, in vain, for the 
familiar figure, the coxswain. At last, he stopped a man carrying 
a lantern. 

” Can you tell me where Jack Robinson is, please? ” 

” Who? ” said the sailor, staring. Ain’t nobody o’ that name 
here.” 

" I mean Tom Jeffs,” said the Skipper hurriedly. 

“ Oh, him! Ashore with the gig, waiting to bring the skipper 
aboard.” 

Bob looked about again and finding himself close by, and 
knowing his way, he went nervously into his father’s cabin, where 
a lamp hung beneath the sky-light, but it was turned down very 
low. The place was empty, and all seemed very dark and lonely, 
but he could hear the crew stumping about and making strange 
noises as if busy preparing to start. Then he started, for the steam 
whistle gave out a dismal shriek, and then there was a low hissing 
and humming noise, announcing that there was too heavy a pressure 
of steam. 

The boy, after walking about the cabin a few times, sat down 
on one of the lockers, and the humming, buzzing noise of the 
escaping steam began to have a strange effect upon him. First lie 
began to nod, and then he dropped off fast asleep, but started up 
again directly and began to walk about to try and keep awake. 

But he was utterly worn out with the excitement he had gone 
through ; the gloomy cabin was hot and close, and in spite of trying 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


37 


hard to keep awake, his eyelids grew more and more heavy, and 
at last, almost without knowing what he did, he crept to his father’s 
berth, drew the curtain back, and threw himself down; the curtain 
dropped back across it, and the next minute he was sleeping soundly, 
Vvith the dull, snorting, humming buzz of the escaping steam going 
(•n and mingling with his dreams. 

After a time he had a faint 
consciousness of hearing voices in 
the cabin, where the lamp had been 
turned up. One of the voices 
seemed to be that of his father, 
and a faint quiver ran through 
him, while he felt as if he were in 
among the fir-trees, where the 
thick rope had been fixed up to 
two of the stems, and he was 
gently swinging to and fro. But it was not nice, for the movement 
made him feel giddy and strange. And then it was that Bob fancied 
he tried to stop the swing and sit still, but somehow it would not 
stop, and the feeling of giddiness increased. 

It did not wake him up, though, and he slept on, knowing 
iK>thing about the Captain coming on board, with his latest 
despatches. Then the cable was unfastened from the buoy, the swift 
vessel began to glide along with the tide, which was running fast, 
and the Captain went up on the bridge, along with his chief officer. 
Every now and then a sharp sound like the striking of a clock was 
heard, these sounds being the striking of the little gong in the 
engine-room, where the engineer and his assistants were tending the 
bright machine, which sent the screw propeller whirling round, and 
making the water foam astern. 

The Skipper slept on heavily while Captain Trevor stayed upon 
the bridge all night, with his chief officer and the pilot, the fast 
boat tearing through the heavy swell, which they entered as soon 
as they were out of the shelter of the Isle of Wight. For the 
Captain’s orders were urgent, and he was to get right away at once. 



38 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


“ Good-bye, dear old home/’ said the Captain, as he stood on 
the bridge, feeling his ship quiver like a live thing as she racea 
along. For the last link which tied them to the shore, seemed to 
him to be broken, when the “ Flash’s ” engines were stopped for 
the pilot to go down into his boat, which dropped astern into the 
darkness directly the gong sounded for the engines to go on ahead ; 
and away she raced, once more, through the black darkness, with 
nothing to guide her upon her journey through the pathless sea, 
except a little flickering cjuivering needle — the sailor’s companion the 
great world round — the friend which always, no matter where they 
may be, points with its tiny finger constantly to the north. 

Towards morning Captain Trevor went down twice into his 
cabin, and the second time stayed for a few minutes, to drink thf" 
cup of tea his servant brought him; but he did not hear the breath 
of the sleeper in his berth, and he went up again to stay upon the 
bridge, for the weather promised to be hot and dull and hazy, and 
the Captain gave his orders to the navigating officers to keep on at 
a good speed, for, he said, he was afraid they would find fog in the 
mouth of the Channel, and he hoped to get out well to sea, before 
the sun was high. 

Everything goes like clockwork on board a man-of-war, and just 
before breakfast-time Captain Trevor went down to his cabin to 
wash and prepare for the morning meal; he had hardly thrown 
his coat, when,' there was a faint sound in his berth, and, to his 
astonishment, the Skipper rolled out, bump ! on to the floor, rose, 
staggered with his hands stretched out, and then, before his father 
could catch him, charged at the opposite bulkhead and went 
down again. 

For a few moments the Captain, in his wonder, could not 
speak. Then as the boy struggled to his knees, looking horribly 
white, he cried out angrily; 

“ Good gracious, boy, what are you doing here? ” 


CHAPTER VIII 



VERYTHING seemed to be swimming round poor Bob. 


1— ^ Skipper! only a “land Skipper,” who had “never been 
to sea,’’ and he gazed speechless and imploringly up from his knees 
in his father’s eyes, while the “ Flash ” felt as if it were going up — 
up — up into the skies, and then down — down — down — into the 
depths of the sea. 

“ You call, sir? ” said a voice, and the Captain’s neat-looking 
servant came to the door. 

“ Call? Yes! No! how came this boy here? ” 

“ Boy, sir,” said the man, gazing at the miserably limp little 
object before him. 

“ Yes, boy: my son. When did he come on board? ” 

“ Dunno, sir. Didn’t you bring him? ” 

“I? Absurd! That will do.” 

The man left the cabin, and seeing how ill the boy was, 
Captain Trevor lifted him up and laid him on a cushioned locker. 

“How came you here, sir? What monkey’s trick is this^” 
cried the Captain angrily. 

“ You — you did no — bid me good-bye,” said the boy feebly, 
with his eyes half-closed. “ I came because — you were angry with 
me — say good-bye.” 

“ Tut — tut — tut — tut! ” said the Captain. 

“ Please forgive me, father. I haven’t eaten anything — I — I feel 
so sick.” 

“My poor boy!” muttered the Captain, as he grasped the 
meaning of it all, and his eyes turned a little dim. “ There, there, 
Bob, it was all a mistake. I was not angry with you. Come, come, 
hold up,” he cried, with a smile which made the boy cling to his 
hand. “You a Skipper, and can’t stand a sea like this? But do 
you know where you are?” 

The boy could not trust himself to speak, but he nodded and 
pointed down to the cabin floor. 


39 


40 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


“ Here/’ said the Captain, looking puzzled. “ Yes, you are here 
sir. Do you know what a muddle you’ve made?” 

Poor Bob groaned, and his father scratched his head. 

No help for it/' muttered the Captain. “ Must put in at 
Mount’s Bay. Tut — tut — tut — tut! ” 

The faintly heard sound of the gong made him look up sharply. 
The vibratioh ceased, for the propeller had ceased to revolve. 

A glance through the cabin window explained why. The 
Flash ” had glided into a dense bank of dry fog, and the Captain 
could not see a yard beyond the panes of glass. 

The next minute the cabin was filled with the dismal roaring 
of the fog-horn, to warn other vessels of their presence there, and, 
before a minute had elapsed, the Captain uttered a sharp ejaculation, 
and sprang to the cabin door, for a fresh roar sounded close at hand, 
telling that another ship w as somew'here near. He rushed on deck, 
to hear a cry of horror raised by the w'atch, and the sharp tinging 
of the gong, for the engines to be turned astern. 

Too late! For at the same moment, the huge prow^ of a great 
Atlantic liner appeared out of the fog, close at hand; there was a 
fearful crash, and Captain Trevor w^as throwm heavily dowm, as the 
Flash ” was struck amidships, and heeled over, as if the huge 
vessel that had struck her, were about to ride right over her, and 
send her to the bottom. But instead she scraped along her side, 
swept away tw^o boats, and disappeared directly in the mist, with 
the dismal sound of the fog-horn dying aw^ay. 

There w^as no confusion on board the “ Flash ”; every officer 
and man sprang to quarters, and after a few^ brief orders, all stood 
breathless, waiting for the report of the damage. 

It was not long in coming. There w^as a terrible gap in the 
gun-boat’s side, and Captain Trevor knew that, do all he might, she 
could only be kept afloat for an hour or so, before she sank. 

For a few^ minutes the poor young Skipper was forgotten, in 
the stern duties before Captain Trevor, wdth so many lives depending 
upon him; then the father’s heart spoke to him reproachfully, and 
he called for his coxsw^ain. 



“ There \vas a fearful crash, as the 

‘ Flash ’ was struck amidships.” 


42 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


Tom Jeffs towered up big out of the fog directly, saluting. 

“ Jeffs,” said the Captain calmly, “ get two life-belts. My little 
son is in the cabin. Whatever happens, stand by him. I trust him 
to you.” 

“ Jack Robinson ” opened his mouth, and stood as if turned to 
stone. 

“You hear! Quick!” cried the Captain. 

“ Ay, ay, sir ! ” roared the man, and his voice was like a 
dismal groan. The “ Flash’s ” head had been turned for the shore, 
and she was going at full speed for the Cornish coast, and, with, the 
remaining boats ready for lowering, when necessary, the steam 
pumps going, and the men, under the first lieutenant’s orders, 
toiling away, stretching sails over the terrible gap in the gun-boat’s 
side, while the propeller spun round, to force her through the dense 
fog, in the hope that the nearest port might be reached. 

Meanwhile, the coxswain had recovered a little from his stupor, 
and, armed with the life-belts, made his way to the cabin, where 
he found the Skipper, lying quite helpless on the floor. 

“ What cheer, my lad! ” he cried, and his presence there, roused 
the boy at once; “ feel a bit queery? ” 

“Yes; so ill. Jack,” said the Skipper. 

On’y qualmy, my lad. Soon be better.” 

“Where’s my father? Is anything the matter?” 

“ Oh, nothing much. Set of lubbers shoved one o’ them big 
’ormous passenger boats aboard us, in the fog. Cap’n sent me to 
look arter you, and put this here on, but it’s ’bout ten sizes too 
big. I shall have to cut it down. Manage it somehow, though.” 

“Is my father very angry with me for coming on board?” 
faltered Bob. 

“ Not a bit, my lad. Glad to see you, o’ course,” said the 
coxswain, who was busy at work altering the cords of the life-belt. 
“ But he says you must go ashore again wi’ me, and as there’s rough 
weather ahead, you and me’s got to wear these here.” 

“ I don’t think I feel quite so sick now, ‘ Jack,’ ” said the boy; 
the knowledge that his father was not angrv, acting wonderfully 
upon him. “ But, I say, ‘ Jack,’ I can’t move in this thing.” 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


43 


Well, it is a bit ork'ard, my lad, but use is second natur'; and 
we’ll take ’em off when we get ashore.” 

” But do sailors always wear these things in fogs? ” 

” Well, not quite alius, my lad. There you are now; makes 
you look quite ’ansum, if you didn’t look quite so much like a 
young ellyfunt. Now I’ll slip mine on, and we'll go on deck.” 

The next minute they were on the bridge, the coxswain looking 
upon that, as the proper place for his Captain’s son. “ Easily drop 
down to fust boat when they’re going to shove off,” said Jeffs, to 
the Captain. 

Meanwhile all possible had been done, and with the swell, 
heavier as they neared the coast, the “ Flash ” tore on through the 
dense white mist, till the 
sound of breakers ahead 
vrarned the Captain, that 
speed must be slackened, 
and the vessel’s course a 
little changed; but, it was 
impossible to tell exactly 
where they were, for noth- 
ing was visible a dozen 
yards from the bows. 

Hardly had the course 
been changed, and the sec- 
ond officer despatched to 
see whether the vessel 
would keep afloat till the 
fog lifted, than there was 
a dull grinding sound, 
then a bump, a slow on- 
ward motion, and then 
those on board were nearly 
taken off their feet by the 

sudden stoppage. 

The “ Flash ” was fast on the rocks, and a wave struck her, 

came on board, and swept the deck. 



44 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


Captain Trevor turned to look at the coxswain, who was 
standing making a piece of lead-line fast about the boy's waist, and 
gave the officer a nod. Then the orders were given, the first boat 
was manned, and Tom Jeffs looked at Captain Trevor for orders. 

“ Next boat,'’ he said, and as the first was lowered, and floated 
off in safety, the second was filled, and once more the coxswain 
looked for his orders. “ Wait for the other,” said the Captain, who 
was afraid to let his son go in the crowd which filled the second. 

He gave the order, and waiting their opportunity, without any 
liurry; the second lieutenant contrived to lower this boat, so that, 
when the next wave came, she floated away into the thick mist. 

The first lieutenant now saw to the manning* of the last boat, 
and for the third time the coxswain looked in his Captain’s face for 
his orders, but still they did not come. 

The Captain glanced round, but there was nothing, save the 
breaking waves sweeping over the deck, and the fog shutting all in. 

“ Quick, sir, please,” shouted the first lieutenant. 

“ Yes, go now, Jeffs,” said the Captain hoarsely, and he bent 
down and kissed his boy. 

“ After you, sir,” said the coxswain. 

“Go, sir, instantly!” roared the Captain. 

“ What! and leave you here? ” cried the man. “ Not me. It’s 
niut’ny, but I won’t desert my Captain.” 

Captain Trevor caught him by the hand. “ To save my boy, 
Jeffs,” he said hoarsely. “ Man, I cannot desert my ship.” 

The coxswain looked puzzled and hesitated. 

“ Quick, man! ” roared the Captain. “ Ah! too late! ” 

For a tremendous wave struck the side of the “ Flash,” swept 
over her, and deluged the boat, hanging from the other side, with 
spray; and when the veil of foam fell, she had disappeared, and the 
three left on the bridge, were all that remained. 

The Skipper had stood watching all, with a scared white face, 
but he had not uttered a cry, for there were two people with him, 
in whom he had the firmest faith: and now, amidst the roaring of 
the waves, he stood, and listened to the angry scene which followed. 


l.ofOt 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


45 


For Tom Jeffs had unfastened his life-belt. 

“ Put that on again, instantly! ” cried the Captain. 

“ Can’t, your honor. You ain’t got one.” 

“ You are a stronger and a better swimmer than I am, Jeffs. 
T beg and pray you, then — I do not order you — to save my child 
and take him to his mother. Tell her I did my duty to the last.” 

Tom Jeffs tied the life-belt on again, and said gruffly: “It’s 
your orders, sir, and I’ll do it if I live.” 

At that moment as if by magic the fog began to grow light 
towards the south. Then lighter still, and floated slowly eastward 
after the boats, leaving the “ Flash ” quite clear, with the breaking 
waves sparkling in the sun. In another five minutes, there was the 
shore, not a quarter of a mile away, with a broad beach of sand 
beneath the towering granite cliffs. 

“ Ah I ” cried the Captain; “ you can swim that, Jeffs? ” 

“ I think so, sir.” 

“ Then go right forward with him, watch for a heavy wave, 
and over with you. 

The man nodded and held out his great fist. 

“You’ll shake hands with me, sir?” 

The Captain clasped his man’s hand directly. 

“You’ll come too, sir?” 

“ Man, my arm is 
broken,” said the Captain. 

Jeff stared at him in 



horror, and then, picked ^ 


up the remains of the lead- 
line, and before the Cap- 
tain could check him, he 
had lashed him fast to the 
rail of the bridge. 


“ I’m going to fetch a 


boat to take you off, sir,” he cried; and he stooped down to pick 
up Bob, and go on to the fore part of the vessel; but in spite 
of the roar and confusion made by the water thundering about 


46 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


them, and drenching them, as every wave broke, the gallant little 
fellow had fully realized the terrible position in which they stood, and 
eluding the coxswain’s grasp, he ran to his father, and clung to him. 

“ No, no,” he cried; ” I won’t go. I’ll stay with my father 
till you ” 

“ Spoke like a hero,” cried Jeffs, ‘‘ but orders must be obeyed, 
my lad,” and seizing the little fellow round the waist, he ran down 
to the deck, then right to the bows, with his burden struggling and 
strinking at him to escape. The next minute, he was up on the 
bulwark, and as a wave surged up, plunged overboard, rose directly 



well clear of the vessel on the rocks, looked back, to see the 
Captain on the bridge, and then, holding the boy’s head well above 
the water with his left arm, struck out with his right, for the shore. 

Jls Hi Hs sis * * 

It was a hard fight to avoid the rocks, but the life-belts made 
the task easier, and Tom Jeffs swam and was carried on shore- 
ward, to where a dozen fishermen were on the look-out with ropes, 
one of whom ran in from the sands to the coxswain’s help, and 
dragged him in to safety; but, in spite of all his efforts, the 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 


47 


Skipper was insensible. He soon roused, to stand with Jeffs, watch- 
ing his father, lashed to the bright brass handrail on the bridge. 

“ Get a boat. Jack; oh, get a boat,” cried the boy. 

‘‘ You be a man and listen, youngster,” cried the coxswain ten- 
derly, but firmly. “ Hear what I says, and act like a man. These 
here, as knows the coast, says no boat could be launched now, 
but the tide’s a-falling fast, and bimeby they’ll go and fetch the 
skipper off — if she don’t go to pieces fust,” he added to himself. 

“ And take me too ! ” cried the boy wildly. 

“ Well we’ll see, my lad, but one on us o’ course. But, Master 
Bob, do you know what you ought to do ? ” 

” Save my father,” panted the boy. 

“ But as you can’t, my lad, ask Someone else.” 

And, as the boy looked wonderingly at him, Tom Jeffs said in 
a whisper : ” Climb up yonder on the cliff, where Cap’n can see 

you, and no one else, and go down on your knees, my lad — you 
knows what for.” 

In three hours’ time the sea had fallen so, that a fishing-lugger 
came round a headland from a mile farther west, to where the 
“ Flash ” lay fast wedged in a cleft, and amidst the cheers of the 
great crowd, now gathered. Captain Trevor was taken from his 
dangerous position, while the news was brought, that the three boats 
had reached the great bay to the east, without the loss of a man. 

The next day at high tide, in a perfectly calm sea, the ‘‘ Flash ” 
was floated off, much injured, of course, but able to reach the 
harbor by the help of a tug. And when the time came for the 
Captain’s trial, on the charge of losing the vessel under his 
command, and he stood there with his arm in a sling, his sword 
was returned to him by the President, who, in a long speech, said, 
that he had behaved as a seaman of whom the country might be 
proud. His ship was afloat again, and was waiting for its Captain, 
whom the Court considered in no way to blame. 

“Just as if all them there bigwigs need ha’ made all that 
fuss. Master Bob,” said the coxswain one dav when he was up at 
the house. “ Why, if I’d ha’ been the Adm’ral I should ha’ just 


48 


THE LITTLE SKIPPER 




slapped the Cap'n on the shoulder and ha’" said. ‘ It’s a bad job. 
Cap’ll Trevor, but the dock-yard folk’ll soon put the ‘‘ Flash ” to 
rights, and, as soon as your fin feels fit, go down and take the 
command again.’ ” 

“ Of course, ‘ Jack,’ ” said the Skipper proudly. It wasn’t 
his fault a bit.” 

” O’ course not, and it’s been a lesson for you not to leave that 

there little darlin’ sis o’ yours again.” 

Yes, ‘ Jack,’ ” said the Skipper, 
turning away his flushed face. 

Well, you needn’t be ’shamed o” 
doing wrong if so be as you’re really 
sorry for it. But, I say. Master Bob.” 
“ Yes, ‘ Jack.’ ” 

” When you’re growed up into a 
real big Cap’n, and we tries to save your 
life a-swimming ashore with you, don’t 
you go for to punch me in the nose 
again, like you did that day.” 

Oh, ‘ Jack,’ I am so sorry,” cried 
the Skipper, looking very red. 

“ Yes, but you punched me six 
times, two on the nose, one in each 
eye, one in the mouth, and once somewhere else; I forget now, 
but it hurt so I think it must ha’ been on the nose.” 

“ I’m afraid so, ' Jack,’ ” said the Skipper penitently. 

But I forgive you. I liked it.” 

Bob, dear,” said a pleasant voice from the drawing-room win- 
dow, ‘‘ mind that Mr. Jeffs does not go till he has had some dinner.” 

“ All right, Ma,” shouted the boy. 

“ And all right it is, my lad, for I was just feelin’ as if it was 
time to pipe to mess. Ah, you’re a lucky chap. Master Bob; what 
wouldn’t I give to have a Ma like that? ” 











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